


For Warmth

by GonewithFantasy



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Coming Untouched, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Cares About Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Has Feelings, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Loves Jaskier | Dandelion, Horny Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Huddling For Warmth, Hurt Jaskier | Dandelion, Hypothermia, M/M, Protective Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Scent Kink, Sharing Body Heat, Touch-Starved Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, cuddle or die, mild scent kink, sharing a bedroll
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-23
Updated: 2020-11-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:53:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27687881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GonewithFantasy/pseuds/GonewithFantasy
Summary: Jaskier falls into an icy lake and suffers from hypothermia. Geralt saves him, they end up sharing a bedroll and...things happen. xD
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 20
Kudos: 255





	For Warmth

**Author's Note:**

> This somehow turned out to be a mix of book Geralt and Netflix Geralt, so he's less grumpy and more caring...and he likes Jaskier.
> 
> As always: no native speaker at work here, so please bare with me ;)

The first year Geralt and Jaskier had spent traveling together was now coming to an end, the leaves turned rusty brown and the temperatures started to drop. Soon the nights would become distinctly chilly.

Geralt barely seemed to notice it, as the trials had made his body mostly insensitive to low temperatures. Jaskier, however, had no such luck. He dreaded the cold and would move his bedroll as close to the fire as possible every time they settled in for the night.

Unfortunately, that would end in Jaskier having to rearrange his bedroll every few minutes when the wind decided to turn yet again, blowing the campfire's smoke in his direction. He had tried to ignore it at first, but it had soon resulted in him coughing and getting a headache.

This way, the bard wasn't really getting that much sleep and it soon began to show during the days. He was cranky and talked much less than usual, which didn't go unnoticed by the witcher. Geralt had proposed they'd part ways so that Jaskier could settle in for the winter. But Jaskier had just given him a wide-eyed look.

It did almost seem like Jaskier was afraid to leave the witcher's side. But Geralt couldn't tell if it was because Jaskier feared they wouldn't have a chance to meet again once he'd left or if it was just because the bard was worried about missing out on some great adventure.

Either way, Geralt didn't like to see his companion in that state. He'd already given him his sleeping blanket, but it didn't seem to help much and, other than that, the witcher didn't really know what to do about it. He had to remind himself that it was Jaskier's choice and nobody was forcing him on that path, and that made him feel a little better.

To make up for Jaskier's unsteady nights, Geralt would postpone the time they resumed their travels in the morning and it seemed to help a little. They were slower that way, but at least the witcher didn't have to listen to Jaskier complaining (as much). And even though he didn't really like to admit it, even to himself, he liked to have the bard at his side.

When Geralt had been travelling alone in the past, he hadn't really missed anything, but now he'd gotten so used to Jaskier, he'd learned to appreciate the company.

On one morning Jaskier had headed out into the woods to relief himself but didn't seem to return. The minutes passed and Geralt pondered whether he should go look for the bard. However, this wasn't unususal for Jaskier. Geralt had often gone after him, only to find him watching some rare bird or sitting in a field of beautiful flowers, laughing at the concerned witcher. The woods were safe in this area, Jaskier would be fine. So Geralt decided to pack up their things and, in case Jaskier wouldn't have returned by then, he'd fetch him afterwards.

Geralt had extinguished the fire, secured their bedrolls on Roach's back and gathered up the rest of their belongings. He looked around. There was still no sign of Jaskier. With a sigh, Geralt patted Roach's neck and then went to track the lovable fool.

The footprints weren't hard to make out, even for someone far less experienced in tracking than the seasoned witcher, due to white frost covering the ground – the first one of the year. Geralt followed the trail as it zigzagged over a hill and a faint smile appeared on his lips when he discovered that Jaskier had stopped to pick up some shiny pebbles before he'd continued his way.

However, the witcher's smile instantly disappeared as he found the tracks leading up to a cliff. There weren't any footprints leading away from the cliff, so the witcher quickly peered down, fearing the worst.

Beneath the cliff was a large lake and in that lake stood Jaskier, neck deep in ice cold water, looking absolutely miserable. The rocks at the shore next to him were too steep to climb for a human and the only part of the waterside not blocked by rocks was at the far end of the lake. Geralt was thankful that the bard had made no attempt to cross the lake on his own since with the icy water paralyzing his muscles, he'd probably have drowned after making it half way through. It was also huge luck that the water beneath the cliff was so shallow that the bard could stand, yet deep enough to have probably kept him from breaking his legs.

To make sure, Geralt called out to him, "Jaskier, are you hurt?"

Jaskier glanced up and shook his head very slowly, almost as if in trance. His lips were blue and his skin looked very pale.

The witcher quickly stripped down to his underpants, then started to climb down the rocks. "How long have you been in there?" he asked.

The bard gave no answer. Geralt wished that it meant Jaskier was pouting but he knew better. This was serious. Once he'd made it half way down the cliff, Geralt jumped and landed next to Jaskier, water splashing up around him.

Without hesitation, he grabbed the bard, held him close so that his head would be above the water and swam across the lake with him. Jaskier was limp in his arms, which wasn't a good sign but it made it easier to hold him up while swimming.

When they reached the far end of the lake where the shore was not blocked by rocks, Geralt put Jaskier down on his feet and grabbed him by his shoulders. "Can you stand?"

Jaskier nodded slowly. A second later his legs gave out and Geralt had to catch him. "Okay, okay, I got you, there you go," and with that, the witcher carefully hoisted Jaskier over his right shoulder, one arm hooked around the bard's waist. The witcher carried him with ease.

Geralt headed to collect the clothes he'd left up on the cliff. Suddenly, he realized with a start that something wasn't right: the bard wasn't shivering. Despite being ice cold and having blue lips, he wasn't shivering at all. Geralt quickly tried to recall everything he knew about hypothermia. He'd once overheard a healer talk about it. She'd said something about different stages and... _ah dammit, what was it again? Right, after a while the body would stop its attempts to create heat by shivering and would instead save up all of its remaining energy to protect the vital organs._

Geralt quickly put two fingers against Jaskier's neck to feel his pulse. It was faint and slow, so was his breathing. _Dammit._

The witcher discarded all thoughts on retrieving his clothes and just started running towards their campsite. He tried to hold Jaskier as gently as possible and whispered soothingly: "It's gonna be alright, I've got you, just stay with me, okay?" Jaskier nodded weakly. The worry about his friend made Geralt uncharacteristically soft.

When Geralt finally reached their campsite, he put Jaskier down on the ground. He had to get him out of this wet clothes immediately. Geralt made an attempt to pull the bard's doublet off, but it stuck to him like it was glued there and he remembered the healer's warning that moving the arms and legs too much could cause the cold blood to flow towards the body's center, making matters worse.

The witcher reached for one of his knives. "Don't be afraid, I just have to cut your clothes off so we can get you warmed up, alright?"

Jaskier made a small sound that was definitely not agreement. Geralt couldn't tell if it was because the bard thought he'd feel even colder without his clothes or if he still cared about them even in his current state. Either way, there was no time to waste and so without further ado, Geralt put his knife to use and soon the doublet came off. He proceeded with Jaskier's chemise and then his pants, working carefully and yet with efficiency. Out of Jaskier's pockets fell the colorful pebbles he'd gathered before he'd fallen into the lake.

Geralt tossed the soaked shreds of clothes aside. There was a brief moment of hesitation, then he also cut down Jaskier's underpants, leaving the bard lying on the floor in nothing but his birthday suit. His fingers and toes had turned blue as well and he was making no attempts to move.

"Almost there," Geralt tried to reassure Jaskier. He hurried to pull a blanket and his bedroll off of Roach and tossed both of it next to the fireplace. Then he quickly stripped off his own underpants and put on some dry ones. He tried to light the fire with Igni, but the remaining firewood was too wet to get it started. Geralt cursed under his breath, spread out the blanket and put his bedroll on top of it.

Then he dried Jaskier off with a shirt of his, as it had just been the first thing he could grab, and, once he was finished, did the same thing to himself. As gently as he could the witcher bundled Jaskier into the bedroll, which turned out to be a surprisingly difficult task when the other person just remains completely stiff, but finally he managed.

As Geralt was the only source of heat aside from Roach, the next step was pretty obvious. He crawled in next to Jaskier, still really careful not to move his arms and legs too much. It was a tight fit, but a fit. He remembered that the healer had said something about the torso needing to be warmed up first and so he resisted the urge to take Jaskier's cold hands into his own and instead just wrapped his arms around the bard.

Jaskier's body was so cold, it even made the witcher shiver for a moment.

The situation might have felt awkward but with Jaskier so close to freezing to death and still limp and unresponsive, 'awkward' didn't even make it on the list of Geralt's concerns right now. He just hoped that Jaskier would make it, preferably with all of his toes and – more important – fingers intact. He didn't like to think about what it would mean for the bard to lose a finger and had to double his efforts not to warm Jaskier's hands just yet.

Instead the witcher focused on keeping Jaskier awake. "Open your eyes, look at me, you mustn't fall asleep right now," he demanded. Jaskier did as he was told and Geralt could see that his pupils were dilated. He couldn't remember the healer saying anything about that, but he'd bet it wasn't a good sign.

Geralt started to rub Jaskier's back to stimulate his blood circulation and to create additional warmth. "Can you feel your fingers?" the witcher asked, already knowing the answer. He was just trying to keep Jaskier from drifting off. The bard shook his head, he was still responding with delay.

"That's okay, let's focus on your back, can you feel that?" Jaskier moved his head again and Geralt couldn't tell if it was a nod or a shake or something in between. The bard's hair was still damp and Geralt put his chin on Jaskier's head, wishing for a way to get it to dry faster. A few minutes passed while the witcher just kept rubbing Jaskier's back.

Very slowly, the life seemed to return to Jaskier's body. Geralt could feel him press against his chest, as the warmth eventually seeped through him. The bard's breathing deepened and his pulse got stronger. A wave of relieve washed over Geralt. He'd found Jaskier just in time, if it had been a few more minutes and Jaskier legs had given out while he'd still been in neck deep water... The witcher hugged Jaskier even tighter for a moment and buried his nose in the bard's damp hair.

His hair smelled of lake water, smoke, the lavender soap he was using and, beneath all that, just like himself. Geralt couldn't have described the scent or compared it to anything else, it was simply Jaskier.

Suddenly the bard started shivering, it was faint at first but quickly started to inscrease. Geralt had to remind himself that this was indeed a good sign. Jaskier pressed up against Geralt's body as if his life depended on it – and it did, the witcher realized. His own body heat was probably saving Jaskier's life right now. A strange feeling spread in Geralt's heart, not exactly pride but rather something...protective?

"Oh Gods, I'm s-s-so cold," Jaskier whimpered and put his hands between their bodies.

"Shhh, you'll be okay," Geralt soothed, running a hand repeatedly through Jaskier's hair in order to dry it. Jaskier leaned into the touch while he pressed his cheek and lips against Geralt's chest, trying to absorb all the warmth he could get.

After a few more minutes Jaskier's shivers lessened until they stopped entirely. Soon he felt comfortably warm. About half an hour passed while they just lay there, none of them uttering a word.

Then Jaskier sighed, stretched and snuggled up against the witcher again. By now, it was clearly no longer just for warmth but also because he simply enjoyed the touch. And Geralt had to admit he did, too.

It had been so long since he'd been with a woman, he'd almost forgotten the beautiful feeling of skin against skin. Even though it was definitely the wrong time to think about something like that right now.

As if Jaskier had somehow read his mind, he stretched again, turned around so he was facing away from Geralt and pressed his back against the witcher. To be fair, with the tight bedroll there wasn't really another option, but Geralt could still feel Jaskier actively making contact with him – or at least he was not making an effort to put the inch of space between them that the bedroll would have allowed.

The witcher tried to ignore the way Jaskier's naked bottom was pressing up against the front of his underpants. He was startled as he realized that his body started to react to it.

Geralt had always liked women. Sure, Jaskier had his charm and he could understand why all the women fell for him. But he'd never found himself thinking about the bard like this. Well, until... _dammit, why did that feel so enticing all of a sudden?! Was he really that desperate?_

If a witcher could blush, Geralt surely would have. Whatever this was, whatever he tried to tell himself, there was no denying that the feeling of that warm, naked bottom – that warm, naked _male_ bottom – pressing against him was making him incredibly horny.

With the two of them on the path together, there weren't really that many moments of privacy for either of them. He didn't know how Jaskier was dealing with it, but Geralt wasn't exactly the type to sneak off into the woods to take care of himself while he was just standing there. He needed at least some degree of comfort to do it. So he had pretty much just refrained from tending to his needs and it hadn't really bothered him – until now.

Without meaning to, he buried his nose deep into Jaskier's hair again and inhaled his scent. He shouldn't have done that, should have known better. A rush of hot arousal immediately shot down towards his groin and the witcher drew a sharp breath, flooding his brain with even more of Jaskier's scent. _What was it always with him and smelling someone else's scent? It was his undoing every time, first with Yennefer and now this..._

Geralt was so hard, there was absolutely no way Jaskier wouldn't notice it. But there was no reaction from the bard, no attempt to scoot away, no disgusted comment. He simply remained as he was, breathing deep and even. The witcher lay completely still, hoping his body would just give up, once it would realize this would lead to nothing.

However, soon Geralt's thoughts trailed off, he'd only have to pull his underpants down a little and... _Gods,_ he could feel himself leaking. The tip of his cock already peeked out of his pants and rested between his stomach and Jaskier's bottom. The witcher felt his self-control crumbling down and he imagined what Jaskier would sound like when he'd slide into him, when he'd hit that good spot inside of him over and over again – another spurt of precum shot out of him with force and Geralt had to press a hand on his mouth in order not to make a sound.

 _This wasn't fair, he wasn't even moving, how could he be so close?_ And then, he could feel Jaskier move against him. But it weren't coordinated thrusts, he was rather cozily snuggling up against him, as if he'd just woken up from sleep – which he had.

Still, it was friction, and Geralt's body welcomed it. Without being able to do anything about it, Geralt could feel a huge pressure build up inside him and his cock started throbbing. _Shit, no. Nononono..._

Geralt tried not to cum, he really did. But it only made it worse, made him cum even harder, when he did eventually. Long white ropes shot all the way up to Jaskier's shoulder blades, covering them both in warm stickiness. A short groan of pleasure escaped the witcher. This was all so incredibly embarrassing, but _fuck,_ he was still cumming and some wicked part of him enjoyed the way he was pumping himself completely dry against Jaskier's soft inviting bottom _._

The silence that followed was deafening, only disturbed by the sound of slowly dripping cum. The feeling of guilt and shame hit Geralt like a hammer.

"Jaskier, I'm so incredibly sorry, I don't know what came over me, this is just...," the witcher stammered. He could feel Jaskier trembling against him. He gulped and the feeling of guilt intensified, he wanted to slap himself...when suddenly he realized that the bard was laughing.

Finally Jaskier gasped for air and managed to say, "It's okay Geralt, seriously, it's fine, just...," he started laughing again, "...just wake me up next time, alright?"

"Alright," the witcher muttered, still affected by the shock of thinking he'd done something unforgivable.

"Oh, and Geralt?"

"Yes?"

"I hope this means my nights of shivering alone in my bedroll are over now?!"

The witcher pulled Jaskier into a tight hug and burried his nose deep into his hair.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to everyone reading this, if you want to make me happy, leave a comment. :)


End file.
